


And Then There Was One

by loveandwar007



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship/Love, Gen, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Pre-Calamity Ganon, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-11 10:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandwar007/pseuds/loveandwar007
Summary: There were two people in his life that Link had to obey. And in the only instant that mattered, he was caught between them both.





	And Then There Was One

There were two people in Link’s life who made him anxious. One of them, he had completely figured out. The other, he was in a constant state of trying to figure out.

The former, of course, was his father.

Granted, he knew it couldn’t ever be easy to be that man. To balance a career as an esteemed knight of the Hyrulean royal guard and raising a son all alone was its own crippling hardship. He wasn’t exactly worldly, having lived in the bustling elite Castle Town his entire life. Link’s mother had been from Hateno, and that was about all he knew of her. For years his father had led him to believe she had left them, and for years Link had blindly believed his tale. He was eleven when he found out the truth, overhearing King Rhoam himself no less: His mother had died the day Link was born.

That was simple enough to understand. His father had told him a horrid lie so he would never ask about her again, and thus he would never have to dive into the painful memories he had locked away. With no one to look after his son when he was gone during the day, the knight had no choice but to bring Link to the military training grounds with him. The boy felt their eyes on him, heard their whispers with his sharp ears, his father’s colleagues asking the same question over and over again: Why didn’t he speak?

Possessing a handicap was rare among Hylians, a pious race believed to be blessed with good fortune under the Goddess’ light. However the royal healers all told his father the same thing, that this boy would never be able to articulate words. The less tactful among the Castle Town residents had given him the nickname “the silent boy.” And it was clear that Link’s father thought less of him because of it. They had ways to communicate of course, Hylian Sign and pen to paper, but it was often preceded by a scoff in private or inflamed embarrassed cheeks in public. His father had never been able to conceal his emotions. Link became an expert.

When he was twelve, all of that changed.

The legendary sword that sealed the darkness had chosen him, and it was his alone to command. Finally he had amounted to something, and now his father could show him off with pride. The creatures in the surrounding forests stood no chance against him, and he could easily hold his own against his sparring partners. He was the youngest to be appointed to the royal guard, and ultimately caught the attention of the king himself for a most exclusive position. Overnight, the silent boy had become the silent hero.

Yet still, there were two people in the hero’s life who made him wish for his own voice. One of them, his father, had charted his life’s course to the Master Sword, a dream becoming reality. The other, behind startling green eyes and a smile like the sun, had caused his footfalls on that path to stumble.

The first time he saw her was at the queen’s funeral. His father stood at attention, his hand on his hilt in preparation for the salute, a warning breathed out to the child who came up to his knee to not move from that spot. The swords were raised, and through the archway they created, Link’s eyes met the princess’ for the first time. Zelda was her name, and before then he had only seen her in paintings. Small with flowing golden hair, six years of age like he was, she walked beside the king with her head held high. Link gave her a solemn wave, and for a moment it broke her resolve. Her lip waggled, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes before she took a deep breath and wrenched her gaze from his, her face returning to its blank reverence.

At the time, Link was sure that was the last he would ever see of her. Then his father was promoted to captain, reassigned to guard the castle interior, and soon Link and Zelda were frequent playmates. On days when she was not escorted to the springs to train, she begged him to teach her Hylian Sign so she could understand him properly. She was bright-eyed, thirsty for knowledge and most of all, wise beyond her years. A far cry from the princesses in his storybooks who wore pretty dresses and cried until they were rescued. On days when she did pray, she often returned wet and shivering, and Link was prohibited from entering her bed chambers to see her. But it never stopped them from sliding notes to each other under the door. In each other, they found respite and comfort.

When they were twelve, all of that changed. 

For six years, Zelda had always smiled in his direction. For five more thereafter, she scowled. She scowled in his face, and she scowled at the sword upon his back. Arguments with her father left her weeping, yet when Link slid a note under her door, she refused to respond. It stung him to the core, her jealousy burning worst of all. At first he thought it was born of all the time he spent with the Zora princess Mipha, before he learned it was much more than that. He was succeeding, and she had yet to bloom. He was everything she wasn’t. She had grown to resent him.

And so, in taking her cue, he closed himself off for good this time. He seldom signed. At seventeen, he silently accepted his duty as Zelda’s appointed knight and personal escort. He kept up on his training to earn his father’s nod of approval. Link existed solely at the service of others, his own thoughts, dreams and emotions shoved to the side until the impending Calamity Ganon was dispelled. He admired Zelda’s strength and intelligence from afar, whether it was her fingers flipping through weathered pages on Sheikah technology or her tears dripping into the spring as Link accompanied her to her relentless training to awaken her inherited magic. 

Every time, she still noticed him, whether out of disgust or wonder. Then he saved her life, and it was as if a long forgotten wick had been ignited. Suddenly there was understanding, a desire between the two of them to rekindle their lost childhood companionship. The more time he spent with her, the more Link felt his heart stir with a long dormant weakness. It was not a need for her approval, as it was with his father, but a need to be near her no matter the cost. Protecting her was no longer a mere obligation, it was his heart’s greatest desire. But that couldn’t be right, and besides, it was downright forbidden. He knew it, and his father fiercely reminded him of it when he saw the way his son’s vacant eyes softened upon Zelda. This silent knight could not feel anything more than camaraderie for his princess.

There were two people in his life that Link had to obey. 

And in the only instant that mattered, he was caught between them both.

The Calamity struck swiftly and without warning on Zelda’s seventeenth birthday. Hyrule Castle was a lost cause by the time Link arrived with Zelda, Castle Town surrounding it on the brink of collapse as well. In seconds, the guard force had dwindled down to a third of its size, and Link quickly scanned the skies for a sign of the champions’ plan of attack. His survey was cut short as three guardians began to swarm around them, mechanical eyes blazing a most unfriendly red, and Link pulled Zelda behind an abandoned house to shield her from their rays.

“Where can we go?” the princess implored tremblingly, craning her neck over Link’s shoulder to search for a way out. To the east, Link could make out smoking debris, but at the moment no guardians. He pulled back from her and pointed that way, signing quickly,  _ “It’s our only option.” _

Zelda’s eyes widened, whipping her head around to glance at the decimated path from Central Square. “But my father...Link, I must--!”

_ “I’m sorry,”  _ he signed over her protests, his eyes filled with deepest remorse.  _ “I can’t take you back there.”  _ Zelda blinked, her eyes releasing gentle tears in glittering streams, but she understood. Link had to protect her. No, he  _ wanted  _ to protect her. And who was she to deny his safety? Now, when she had no other choice?

“Lead the way,” she ordered, gripping his hand tightly before he tugged her east, weaving in and out of debris of houses and shops, hiding themselves from view when that familiar beam of red light appeared, more and more frequently as they neared the giant fountain in Central Square. Once they were past it, they were home free, for a time at least.

Then Link saw him, and everything froze. His heart, the air, the sounds, Zelda’s panting behind him -- there was nothing but a dull ringing in his ears. Struggling up from the ground, after collapsing onto a fallen comrade’s corpse, was his father. Stone faced, armor dented and splattered with blood, a limp in his right leg, the man who was the image of Link himself in around twenty years looked around in bewilderment.

He spotted them several feet away. His son and the princess, these two children who he had believed were miles away from the attack by now, standing out in the open, moving targets ripe for being struck down. And Link saw something foreign in his father’s eyes: Fear. Compassion. And for the first time since he was a child, unconditional love. For so long, Link couldn’t tell if this man, the only family he had ever known, truly loved him. Or simply put up with him because he had to. The silent child who couldn’t form a sentence, the baby who survived when his wife didn’t, the young man who grew to outrank his father. Things Link had gone over and over again in his head before finally giving up on any scrap of parental affection.

But the look he was giving him now, the love emanating from his identical blue eyes...it was all Link could do not to drop Zelda’s hand and run to him, tremble in his father’s arms like he used to when he was young during a thunderstorm. Zelda watched him too, still wrapping her head around her own father’s demise as Link stared petrified, as if waiting for a cue, and instinctively clutched his hand harder.

It was a matter of moments that felt like an eternity, everything seeming to slow down in time. The captain’s jaw set tightly, yet the affection never left his eyes, and bit out a sentence. His final order as the red beam of a rogue moving guardian targeted him between his shoulder blades.

“Go! Get out of here, Link!  _ Now!” _

The laser met its target, Zelda muffling a scream behind her hand as she reinforced the other to stop Link from rushing forward. A sound erupted from his throat, a strangled cry hoarse and crackled from no use in his dry vocal chords, dying in the air like a wounded animal as the last he saw of his father disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

And without wasting a single second more, they ran. Breaching the borders of the town, the knight and princess sprinted into the forest when a sudden downpour of rain slowed their squelching steps. Behind them, screams of terror grew fainter and smoke began to fade from their lungs as they left the searing glow of Ganon’s reign behind them.

“Link!” Zelda sobbed, her voice faltering each time her heels hit the ground, mud splattering her white sacred ceremonial gown. “Link, I’m s-sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Link shook his head frantically, gasps for air in their desperate sprint concealing his own racking sobs, the hot tears that wouldn’t stop falling mingling with the cold rain. They had to keep running, they were still far too close. Far above them, a roar shook the air as the Calamity that had taken both of their families swirled in its shadowlike form around the castle, hiding it from view. 

There was no castle anymore. No guard. No champions. No family. There was only Zelda. And that alone was enough to keep him going, as far as they possibly could away from this devastation.

There were two people in his life that he loved with all his heart. One of them was gone. And the other was all he had left.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are great, but comments are better :)


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